Not Your Ordinary Relationship
by Quicksilver19
Summary: 7th year, Hermoine and Draco fic... Draco messes up and has to fix things...
1. Draco Malfoy

Not Your Ordinary Relationship…

Note: Okay, this is set during their last year at Hogwarts. Draco hates his father, Hermoine and he are Head Girl and Boy, Harry's a Prefect, Voldemort was defeated in their fifth year, Harry's going out with Ginny, Ron likes Padma Pavarti, whew… okay, I think that's it. Oh, and rated R for bedroom scenes but not the actual stuff… and for swearing… enjoy! : )

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Hermoine rolled over, blinking slowly. Draco was lying beside her, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "Draco?" she said softly, wondering if he was actually awake or not. She waited for a few minutes and was about to go back to sleep until, 

"Hmmm?" he replied, turning his head slightly to fix her in place with a grey gaze. "What?" 

She frowned. Did he have to sound so cold, so distant? Given their situation, he shouldn't be such a bastard… They'd been together for a year, which was a very long time for both of them. He'd even been sort of civil around Harry. Now that Voldemort was gone, he didn't have to worry about having to become a Death Eater and joining his father. He hated his father. But that gave him no reason to be a jerk to the one person in the world that he shouldn't be one to. "Nothing. Forget it." She heard him exhale slowly as he closed his eyes again, as if dealing with a child. 

"What is it? I can hear you thinking from here. Your mind is going, click, click, click." His lips slid slowly into a smile, a genuine smile, and one he gave when he was genuinely happy. Like now. 

Suddenly she was shy. She didn't want to ask him, dreading the answer that he would give her. "It's just…well…I just feel…" 

He arched an eyebrow. "Today, if possible…" he drawled. 

"Are you using me to get back at your father?" she blurted out, cringing. When she practiced it, she'd had many different approaches to it but never one so straightforward. "I mean, after Voldemort was killed, he was very angry with all Muggle-born witches and wizards and almost went crazy… and now that you're with one…" she added, talking too fast. 

"Yes." 

She cringed even more. He was so blunt, and cruel about it. "Oh," she said finally in a small voice. 

He gave a small, dry, chuckle. "Don't be so surprised, Hermoine. And don't be offended. I know you're doing it for the same purpose. We're just two people who are working together for a mutual advantage." 

She swallowed. It was true but he didn't have to word it so harshly. Her parents, very simple people, had wanted her to settle down with someone, anyone, to prove to them that they had been good parents and had raised her properly. To be normal to them, even for a witch, was to be with at least one person during the younger years of your life. And they had been very impressed with Draco Malfoy, the tall, stunningly handsome young man that had captured their daughter's heart and taken care of her during her horrible break-up with Archie Campbell, the boy during the summer a year ago. It had just kept going from there and now here they were… "Of course. I know. It's fine. Why would it be anything more," she answered quickly. "That's fine." 

He countered without opening his eyes. "You're lying through your teeth. What's bothering you? I thought we agreed when we started this that there would be no connections. When did this happen?" 

She gritted her teeth. Why did he have to make it sound like a bad, horrible disease? And how did he say it without changing his voice or tone or anything. "I don't know. I don't want to talk about it. Forget it. It's not a big deal." 

His eyes slid open, fastening on her face. "I will not. Now, we're both adults so let's act it. When did this happen and why didn't you tell me?" 

She turned her head away from his piercing gaze. "I don't know and I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd react like this." 

"Like what?" 

"Like you don't feel it," she snapped, hurt. 

"Well, I don't." 

She swallowed hard, gritting her teeth to keep the tears back. "Oh." 

"What?" he asked again, more than slightly annoyed. "What's wrong with what we have? It's better this way. As soon as your little boy toy, Harry comes to his senses, you'll be together. As soon as my father comes to terms with me then he'll leave me alone. We both win." 

"You can't win with that kind of life," she whispered into the pillow. 

"What, Hermoine? I can't hear you when you mumble into the pillows." 

"You can't live with that kind of life!" she yelled, throwing off the covers and jumping out of the bed. She grabbed her pants and tugged them on angrily. 

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, rolling onto his side and watching her dress, an amused look on his face. 

"You drive me insane! I'm leaving!" she snapped, storming out in her bra, forgetting her shirt in her anger.

He blinked, and the smile disappeared. He hadn't actually thought she'd leave. They'd had fights before but she'd never left. He'd always been able to diffuse the situation before it got to that point. He got out of bed quickly and pulled on a pair of pants and a collared shirt. Without bothering to button it up, he took off out the door after her. "Hermoine!" he yelled after her retreating form. When she kept moving without a backwards glance, he sped up, catching her before she got around the corner. "Hermoine," he snapped, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around. "What's wrong with you?" 

She blinked back tears and shook him off. "You already know what's wrong, Draco. Do you get some sort of sick pleasure from hearing it again and again?" she spat at him. "Leave me alone," she added, tiredly, shivering. 

He shrugged out of his shirt and wrapped it around her bare shoulders. In her haste to get away from him, she'd forgotten her own. "Come back to the Head's room. You'll freeze out here," he said, buttoning a few of the buttons on the shirt. 

She sat down on a couch in the common room and he stood in front of the fire, gazing into the flames as if the answer to their problems would come to him. 

"So what is the problem?" he asked finally after what seemed an eternity of silence. 

"I don't love Harry anymore, I love you. And you can't admit that you feel something for me. Even if it is something small and just for one second of one minute of one day…" 

"But I don't," he said, turning towards her, surprised at the news about Potter. There was no trace of taunting or cruelty in his voice, just a flatness. 

"Then it has to stop." She folded her hands in her lap. 

"Why?" he asked, bewildered. This did not make any sense. If she didn't want Harry anymore because she loved Draco himself, then why was she leaving him?

"Because I can't do this anymore," she stated quietly, standing up and walking to her own room. "Goodbye Draco," she added, before going in and shutting the door behind her. 

"Good bye Hermoine." 

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Okay, that's all for now… I know, I know… a little excessive drama at the end but, meh, what can you do? Let me know what you think of it, though… Good, bad, even constructive criticism here people! Come on! And if you sign your review, I'll read and review your stuff! : ) Ciao! 


	2. The Halloween Ball

Chapter 2: The Halloween Ball

A week later Hermione came down to breakfast and walked straight past the Slytherin table to sit at Gryffendor after a week of avoiding the place. 

"Hullo Hermione," Neville greeted as she sat down beside him. "Been awhile since you sat here with us."

"Hello Neville," she replied, glancing quickly at the Slytherin table and immediately regretting it. 

Pansy Parkinson was sitting practically on Draco's lap, feeding him toast and stroking his hair. 

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, Harry and Ron were standing in front of her. "Hello," she said, meekly. 

"Hello Hermione," Ron said coolly. "Got sick of the pure bloods and decided to visit us lowly folk?" he sniped at her. 

"Hermione!" Harry said, elbowing Ron in the ribs. "Good to see you." He sat down across from her. 

Ron glanced at her as her face fell and he melted. Poor girl. He went around the table and sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just that I hate Draco and I've always wanted to pound his face in, even more so now because he's dumped you for that slut Pansy." 

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks Ron, that means a lot to me. Really." 

He blushed. "Yeah, well. He deserves it. Certainly doesn't deserve you." He hugged her gently. "I'm glad you're back with us." 

"Me too." She patted his arm. Looking, up, she saw Draco bristle. He was glaring at Ron. She lifted her chin defiantly, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue at him. If he could move on, so could she. "Hey, Ron, do you have a date for the Halloween Ball yet?" she asked, turning to him. 

Draco bristled as Ron sat down beside Hermione and put his arm around her. He hated Weasley. Hated him with every fiber of his being. Hermione's eyes came up and met his. She looked back at him defiantly then turned to Ron and asked him something. His eyes lit up and he nodded, grinning like a fool. Well, that was fine. He had Pansy now. She was really annoying, pathetic, and dumb. His father would love her, unfortunately, but she would have to do for now. 

"Draco!"

"What?" he snapped. 

"You're not listening," she whined. 

"What is it?" he asked, automatically. It was probably something really dumb, just like her.

"I can't wait until the Halloween Ball. It will be so perfect!" 

He nodded, taking a bite of toast and glancing at Hermione. 

            She was laughing with Potter and Weasley. She looked happy. Why did it bother him so much to see her with him? "I'm not hungry." He pushed the plate of toast away and stood up, dumping Pansy onto the bench beside him. 

            "You want me to come, honey?" We have time before first class," she purred seductively, placing her hand on his leg. 

            "No," he growled and left the hall. 

            Over the next few weeks, Pansy became increasingly annoying and Hermione's friendship with Potter and Weasley was bothering him more and more. Hermione was ignoring and avoiding him as much as possible. When she had to talk to him, her comments were clipped and short. 

            He sighed, doing up his dress robes. It was the night of the Halloween Ball. He stepped out into the common room and glanced at Hermione's door. He'd finally admitted to himself that he was in love with her. He'd broken up with Pansy and was going to the Halloween Ball by himself. He'd had countless offers, from all sorts of girls but had refused them all. He'd gotten a howler from his mother and father about it and had laughed throughout the whole ordeal because it pleased him to know his father wasn't happy with him and couldn't even touch him. 

            "What are you doing?" 

            He snapped out of his reverie and looked up. Hermione was standing in front of him, even more beautiful than before. "H-Hermione…" He gulped. "You look beautiful." 

            She looked taken a-back for a moment before composing her face one more into a cold mask he'd come to know well when she was around him. "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go meet my date." She walked by him but he caught her arm. 

            "Hermione, I…" he began. 

            "Yes?" she asked, eyeing him coolly. Inside, she wanted to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and kiss him. 

            His face hardened. "Forget it. Have a nice night with Weasley." 

            "Same to you with Pansy," she replied stiffly. 

            "I'm not going with her. I'm not going with anyone," he replied, then whirled around and left the room, leaving Hermione staring after him in confusion. 

            She entered the Great Hall, her mind in a state of turmoil. Before it had been so easy. Draco hadn't cared. It used to be black and white. It had always been them against Draco. Even when she'd started going out with him, he'd still been nasty to Ron and Harry. Some things didn't change. But then again something did… like Draco's attitude towards her. She wished he would admit his feelings… she'd seen them written plainly on his face when she'd come out of her room that evening and caught him by surprise. 

            "Hermione, you okay?" 

She looked up. Ron's face swam into focus. "Yes, fine Ron." She forced a grin for him. 

"Okay." He grinned back and put his arm around her, steering her towards their table, composed of them, Harry and Ginny, Neville looking miserable with Padma Partil, and Seamus and Parvati Patil. 

As the feast was finishing, Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder and Ron's face hardened, telling her exactly who it was. 

"We have to open the Ball with the first dance," Draco said in a tight voice, glaring back at Ron. "Don't worry Weasley," he added to her date. "You'll have her back in one piece." 

Hermione wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up. "I'll be right back," she said, following Draco to the head table, Harry and Ginny right behind her. They students were all standing and the tables moving to the edges of the room. The other prefects were lined up and Ginny and Harry waved as they took their place. 

"Let the ball begin," Dumbledor called out. "Would the Heads and Prefects lead the dancing with the first dance, please?" He beckoned and they started out onto the floor. 

Draco offered Hermione his hand. "Shall we?" 

She nodded, following him stiffly onto the floor. He turned her and placed his other hand on her waist, not even looking at her, instead he looked around the room at other people. 

"I can't believe you," she said. She couldn't help herself. She was the one in pain and he was being an asshole about it. 

His eyes snapped to her face. "What?" 

"You are the biggest asshole I know… Why are you doing this to me?" 

"Doing this to you?!" he half yelled. People started to look at them and he lowered his voice. "You have been ignoring me, avoiding me and being a brat about this whole situation and you tell me I'm being an asshole about it. Grow up, Hermione." 

"Grow up, Draco? Sure, I'll grow up when you admit that you felt something, anything for me while we were together. Then you might be able to convince me that you're not a cold-hearted bastard that doesn't care about anything but getting back at your father." 

"Can we talk about this later, perhaps?" he said in a low voice. "People are starting to stare." 

"Who cares!" she yelled, wrenching away from him. "You're just an arrogant bastard who doesn't feel anything for anyone because it's been programmed into you by your bastard of a father." She was almost in tears. "I thought you were better than that, Draco. I thought you could actually break away from your father's legacy, but no, you're nothing but a Malfoy." She spat out his name like a curse. 

"I am nothing like my father," he said, dangerously low. 

By now everyone had stopped and was staring at the scene before them. Nobody moved, for fear of breaking the spell. The band had died away minutes before, all the members staring at the two. 

Draco and Hermione just stared at each other, sparks practically flying from their eyes. 

"Prove it," she replied, deadly calm, then whirled on her heel and stalked out of the room. 

Draco glared at the crowd around him. "What are you looking at?" he bellowed. "Keep dancing." Then he took off after Hermione as the band started up again. 

Okay, that's it. Thanks to all you guys who reviewed! I know, I know, another cliff hanger… sorry! But I'll have the next chapter up tomorrow, promise! Ciao! : )


	3. Confusion and Angst

"Hermione!" 

She glanced back. Draco was closing on her, his eyes flashing, and his face set in hard lines. "Piss off Draco," she muttered, walking even faster. She made it to the Gryffendor portrait without Draco catching up. "Hippogriff," she said, quickly stepping inside. The painting swung shut, just as Draco arrived. 

"Hermione-" he got out before the portrait shut him out. 

She flung herself down onto the couch, sniffling. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why did he? She pulled off her dress robe and curled up in a ball, tears falling down her cheeks to drip on her arms. 

Draco slammed his hand against the wall beside the portrait of the Fat Lady. Why hadn't he just said it? _I love you._ So stupid. 

"What's wrong dearie?" 

He looked up. The Fat Lady was looking at him questioningly. 

"Is it the girl Hermione? She's such a sweet little thing. Did you know her boyfriend broke up with her a few weeks ago? Such a tragedy. The first day without him, she came crying out of here because of that dolf, Ronald Weasley. I could hear him yelling from here. 'Get over the bastard, Hermione!' 'He's not worth it!' And the worst that made her run and not come back for four hours was 'He doesn't love you! How can you forgive him for that and not forgive me for stupid little things?' She slapped the oaf so hard I heard it out here and when she came out, she was crying about that and about her hand. Too bad about her boyfriend though. She wouldn't stop talking about him to that other one, Ginny, I think it is…" 

He slid to the floor, closing his eyes and putting his head in his hands. Yup, he'd screwed up big time. 

"Always talking about how sweet and gorgeous, and nice and wonderful he was…" the Fat Lady rambled on. "Wish there were more like him around." 

Harry and Ginny found him in the same place two hours later, the Fat Lady rambling on about a friend she'd gone to visit in the North tower that afternoon. 

"Draco?" Ginny asked softly. 

His head shot up. "Hermione?" he asked, half-asleep. 

"Not quite," Harry said helping him up. "Come on. I'll help you back to your room." 

"But I need to talk to Hermione," Draco said dazedly as Harry led him down the hallway. 

"Not tonight you won't. Come on, Draco. Back to bed for you. I'll be right back," he added to Ginny. 

She nodded and turned to the Fat Lady. "Hippogriff." 

"Sure," the woman replied. "Nice young man," she remarked. "Been here for the last two hours. Wonder who he was waiting for… oh well, goodnight dearie." She yawned. "I should go to bed soon too…" 

Ginny rolled her eyes and went in. Sometimes the Fat Lady just didn't shut up… "Thanks. You too." She entered and spotted Hermione curled up on the couch. She moved over and squatted down next to the girl. "Hermione? Wake up." 

Hermione opened her eyes slowly. "Draco?" she asked, confused. 

Ginny smiled. They loved each other. "No, Harry took him back to his room. He's been sitting outside, talking to the Fat Lady for two hours, waiting to see you." 

Hermione stood up, picking up her robe. "So what? He probably just wanted to yell at me." She started for the portrait hole. "I have to go to bed." 

"He loves you, Hermione." 

She didn't reply and kept moving. 

"What happened, Draco? You guys were perfect," Harry said as they walked towards the Head's rooms. 

"I couldn't admit that I loved her," Draco said soberly. He felt drunk like he couldn't see or move or talk properly. "And I do. I really do. But I screwed up. All she thinks of me is 'Malfoy.'" He said spreading his arms wide over his head like writing it out. "A bastard, a liar, and a jerk." They arrived at the entrance of the Head Rooms and he leaned his head against it. "How do you do it, Potter?' 

            "Do what?"

            "Stay around her without messing up all the time? I sure can't do it as you can see… Dragon scales." 

            The portrait opened and he almost fell into the room. Groaning, he moved further into the room towards the couches. 

Harry stood in the doorway. "Lots of practice. You should really get some sleep, Draco. You've had a long night. Goodnight." 

"Goodnight," Draco replied, sitting down heavily in a couch to stare at the fire as the portrait swung shut. He put his head down in his hands. What was he going to do? 

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Okay, that's it for today… no cliff hanger this time… : ) I'm out of town this weekend but I'll try to write the next chapter and maybe post it by Sunday when I get back… let me know what you think of this one… suggestions always welcome! Ciao!


	4. Decisions

Note: Huge thanks to everyone that has reviewed my story! I didn't think it would get so many… I love you guys! This chapter kind of sucks… Hermione and Draco kissing though… : ) Enjoy…

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Hermione walked slowly towards her room. She hoped that Draco would already be in his room, even better if he were sleeping. But at the same time, she wished he would be awake, pacing back and forth, waiting for her to come back so he could sit her down and shake her and talk sense into her. 

"Goodnight Hermione!" Harry called.

She looked up. He was on a moving staircase. "Goodnight Harry!" she called back. 

"And be nice with him. He's really beat up about it." His staircase reattached itself across from her and he waved as he left. 

She took a deep breath and started walking again. When she got to the portrait in front of the Head's common rooms, she stopped. If she went in there then everything would change. She didn't know whether she wanted it to change. "Oh, don't be such a wimp," she whispered furiously to herself. "Dragon scales," she said aloud and the portrait opened up. She stepped inside. 

Nothing happened. 

No one grabbed her. 

No one shook her. 

No one yelled. 

She let out a sigh, whether out of relief or regret, she didn't know. 

"Hermione?" 

He was sitting on the couch, staring at the fire. 

"Hello Draco," she said quietly. 

"Can I talk to you?" 

"Sure." She dropped her robe onto the back of the couch facing him and sat down. "Well?" she asked, after a few minutes. "What did you want to tell me?" 

He started at her for a moment then leaned back against the couch, chewing his lip. 

"Draco!" she snapped. 

"What?" he asked, looking up at her. 

"You were itching to tell me something. What is it?" It was really starting to bother her that he wasn't talking. He'd started this. "Well?" she repeated. 

He stood up and sat down beside her. "It's just that… well I… y'see…" 

"Spit it out!" she snapped. 

"I miss you," he said quickly. "I miss being around you, I miss waking up with you right there. I miss being able to talk to you, to kiss you whenever I want to. Now you're back to being with Po- Harry and Ron. I miss talking to you." He turned his head and stared at the fire. "You happy now?" he asked in a low tone. 

She nodded. "Yes. You understand now. Good." 

"So now what?" he asked, looking up at her face. 

"What do you mean?" 

"What happens now? Can we be together now?" 

She laughed dryly. "You think that now that you realize what I realized a month ago, that it would be okay? Do you know how hard it was to watch you with Pansy? Do you know how hard it was to keep my face blank when she talked about you… which, by the way, was whenever I was around. I wanted to hit her so badly!" 

"You should have," he interrupted quietly. "Would have been funny as hell." 

She stopped, taking a deep breath. "Don't you dare interrupt me!" she said, half-heartedly in her anger. 

"Well, it would be," he replied calmly, looking up at her with a glint in his eye, and a half-smile on his face. 

She bit her lip to keep from yawning. "Now I've lost my angry rant. Thanks." 

He leaned towards her. "Good. You always talked too much anyway." He bent his head to hers, hesitated, looking into her eyes, then kissed her. 

Hermione leaned into the kiss for a moment, revelling in Draco's soft lips and his hands sliding around her waist and pulling her towards his body. She leaned into it, as his kisses became more insistent. His tongue brushed her lips and she opened her mouth, meeting it with her own. He slowly pushed her down onto the couch and his hand slipped underneath her shirt, sliding up her waist and to the clasp of her bra. Then her brain kicked in and she pushed against his chest. "Draco… Draco, I can't… We can't." 

Draco groaned and sat up, breathing heavily. "Hermione…" 

She shook her head, sitting up. "It's too fast, Draco. I can't…" 

"Are we okay though? I mean, what are we now?" 

She looked at him carefully. "We're friends, Draco. Friends for now." She stood up. "Goodnight." She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek before going into her room. 

"Goodnight," he said after her and went into his own room. As he changed into sleepwear, he thought about it. 'Friends for now,' she'd said. Well, he'd just have to change her mind. His mouth quirked into a half-smile. Let the games begin. 

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Okay, so let me know what you think of it! : ) Thanks! Ciao! 


	5. Dean Thomas

Thanks to all my reviewers! Um, some to name: MiaMaria, Fiery Slut, Anna Nana, Kiriko-chan, Sucker For Romance. You guys rock!!! : ) Anyway, here's the next chapter… enjoy… 

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For the next few days, he stayed away from her. He saw her glance at him more than a few times with a confused look on her face. Outwardly, he was impassive, inwardly, he grinned. There was an order that had to be followed. This was a game that he was playing, with Hermione as the prize. And he was going to win. Still, it made him incredibly angry whenever she was around Potter and Weasley, which was quite often… but that couldn't be helped. It didn't really matter anyway. Potter was in love with Ginny Weasley and Ron seemed to have a thing for Pavarti. So no competition from either of them. He watched the others around her. Neville Longbottom was a squat annoying boy and had grown up the same. No problem. The only one that he could see could give him some trouble was Dean Thomas. The boy had grown into a tall, handsome guy that they girls fawned over. Ever since Draco had disappeared from her side, Dean seemed to have the annoying habit to 'run into' her everywhere from the library to the entrance of the Great Hall just so they could sit together. And she didn't seem to mind. He bared his teeth in a not-so-nice smile. Well, that would not do at all. 

Hermione entered the Great Hall, talking with Dean Thomas. He'd asked her to help him study for the an Arthimacy test they were going to have next week so she'd been helping him a lot lately. Well, it wasn't as if she had much else to do with her free time. Draco had stopped talking to her. She sighed. Maybe the whole 'just friends' thing had been a huge mistake. She glanced over to the Slytherin table for the familiar blond. He was bent towards Blaise Zambini, talking. As if sensing her watching, he turned his head and looked straight at her. His eyebrows jumped and his mouth quirked into a quick smile before he turned back to the other boy. Her heart skipped a beat but she tried to quell the feeling. _Remember, he was a jerk_, a small voice said to her. _He's supposed to be the one wanting you, not the other way around. Stop it! This is exactly what he wants you to do so that you can just crawl back to him and he won't look like the stupid one…_ the voice yelled. But she couldn't get that smile out of her mind. Even when Dean waved a hand in front of her face, she didn't notice until Ron bellowed, 

"Hermione!" 

"What?" she snapped back. 

"Dean was talking to you." 

She turned red with embarrassment. "Sorry, what?" 

He shrugged. "Studying in the library tonight?" 

"Sure." 

"Around six at our usual table?" 

"Sure." 

He grinned. "See you then. I have to finish an essay for Muggle Studies," he said then left. 

She sat down to see two identical grins on Harry and Ron's faces. "What?" 

"So, Dean Thomas, eh?" Harry asked. 

"Much better than Malfoy, I'd say," Ron added. 

"Shut up," she replied and started eating breakfast. "I'm not going out with Dean, I'm just helping him with Arithmacy and that's all. Nothing more." 

"Uh huh…" Ron said sceptically. "Suuure…" 

She sighed. Boys. 

The morning post started to come in, owls flying everywhere. Pig came in, dropping a package in front of Neville, he'd forgotten a textbook at home, as usual.

A owl soared down and dropped a white rose onto Hermione's toast then took off again, following the other owls out the window. 

She picked it up, astonished, then turned towards Draco. But his face was hidden behind the Daily Prophet. She turned back and picked up the note attached. 

There will be time, there will be time, 

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to love and to create;

And time for all the works and days of hands

That life and drop a question on plate; 

Time for you and time for me. 

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea. 

She flushed and stuffed the note into her pocket, moving the rose to beside her plate. 

"What was that, Hermione?" Ron asked curiously. 

"Nothing. A thank you," she replied, shovelling food into her mouth at the risk of choking herself. When she was done, she gave Ron and Harry a forced smile. "I'll see you two in Herbology. I just remembered I have to do that Muggle Studies essay too…" She got up from the table and practically ran from the Great Hall. As soon as she was out of view, she ran towards her room. 

Over the next week, she found several more roses and several more notes filled with poetry. Some she recognized as Shakespeare and other poets, some she didn't. Every time it was delivered by the same owl, and every time there was no signature. During class, she tried to get a glimpse of Draco's writing but never got the chance. Then again, he could have gotten anyone to write it for him. Or it might not even be him at all. Dean could have written it. Anyone could have written it. She might have a stalker, for all she knew. Some pimply little second year could be writing it to her. Well, she had no way of actually knowing who was sending it until they decide to show themselves. It would serve her right if it were a second year for all the time that she thought about Draco. Too much altogether for the fact that she didn't want to be with him. 

Sighing in frustration, she left the Gryffindor common room. It was much too noisy for her when she was trying to read. She went to the library, her haven, her second home, and settled herself by the window. The night was cloudless and star-filled, beautiful, in fact. She opened her book and a page fell out. 

Let us go then, you and I, 

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Where you can be outside and inside instantaneously,

Where owls fly around the stars and humans feel free. 

She stared at it. It was quite unnerving really. Someone had gone into her room to place it in her book. Someone knew her password; even if she'd changed it a half dozen times since she'd gotten the first note. She studied the note again. _Let us go then, you and I_… Okay, he wanted to meet… _When the evening is spread out against the sky_… well, that was easy, evening, which was now… _Where you can be outside and inside instantaneously_, _Where owls fly around the stars and humans feel free…_ She thought for a few minutes. Where would one be outside and inside instantaneously? Owls fly around the stars, humans feel free? After a few minutes, she snapped her fingers. The Astronomy Tower. 

She closed her book with a snap and ran out of the library, the note clutched in her hand. 

When she arrived at the tower, the light was just starting to fade and she was breathing heavily. "Hello?" she asked. "I know it's you, Dra-" The person stepped out and she stopped. Her face fell. "Oh, Dean. What are you doing here?" 

He smiled uncertainly. "Hermione, I want thank you for helping me with that test…and…well…" he trailed off uncertainly as he saw her face. 

"Yes?" she asked, trying to rearrange her face. Dean wasn't a bad guy.  

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to the Yule Ball with me?" he asked quickly. 

She blinked. What was she going to say? Sorry Dean, I'm in love with any other guy, I can't go…? She opened her mouth to reply but someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned around, a sick feeling settling in her stomach as she saw who it was. 

"What are you two doing up here?" Snape asked silkily. "I don't believe you have a class this time of night…" 

Both Hermione and Dean started talking at the same time. 

"We were…" 

"Professor, I…" 

"In my office, now." 

They started after him, heads hanging low. 

Halfway down to the dungeons, they heard footsteps running after them. 

"Professor!" Malfoy called. "Professor, thank goodness you found her." He took Hermione's hand. "I've been looking for her all over the place. Thank you." 

Snape nodded. "Of course, Draco." He nodded and turned around, continued down the hall with Dean tagging along behind, his face ashen. 

Draco started off, pulling Hermione along. 

"Thank you," she said finally as they turned the corner. 

He led them towards the main door. "You never showed up, by the way."

"What?" 

"The note. You didn't get it?" 

She held up the note. "This? I went to the Astronomy tower. Dean was there. He and I talked… he asked me to go to the Yule Ball with him but Snape interrupted. What did you mean by it?" 

He held up another note. "This was slid under the door by Dean, inviting you up to the Astronomy Tower. I meant the Quidditch pitch. I was going to invite you on a ride. Do you want to go?" 

She studied his face for a few seconds before nodding. "Okay."

His face split into a quick grin and they went to the pitch. His brand new broomstick was hovering a few feet from the ground. He climbed on and motioned to her to get on. She did and he pushed off, taking off and flying smoothly up into the sky. They flew up above the castle and he slowed the broom to a stop. 

"It's a beautiful night," she said finally. 

"Mmhmm… so would you go to the Yule Ball with Thomas?" 

"I don't know…" she answered truthfully. 

"Well, you can't." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you're going with me," he replied, matter of fact. 

"Am I?" She turned her head towards him. "Really?" 

"Yes, you are." He smirked. "Who else would you go with?" 

"Well… Dean…" she said uncertainly. 

"Dean?" he said point-blank. 

"Yes, maybe Dean." 

"Do you really want to go with that oaf?" 

            She frowned. "Dean's not an oaf." 

            "So you'll go with me?" 

            "Maybe. Is that why you brought me up here? To ask me?" 

            "No, I brought you up here so you couldn't run away or say no." He grinned and they started to soar back down towards the pitch. 

            "Fine. I'll go with you," she said when they touched down. "But don't think this means we're back together. Because it doesn't. We're just going to the Ball together. I have to get back to my room. I have work to do." 

            "Of course you do." He watched her scamper off up to the main entrance and when he kicked off on his broomstick and soared up towards the stars, he couldn't keep from smiling. 

¤                                  ¤                                  ¤

Okay, that's it… let me know what you think! I know he's not really in character but I didn't like Malfoy when he was completely evil and besides, he's in love! No one acts normal when they're in love. 


	6. Ready for the Ball?

The day of the Yule Ball, everything was in order. Hermione ran around, making sure that everything was ready in time for that night. Her brain was frazzled; she'd been working on this for so long. Fat lot of help Draco was too. The guy was never around, and when he was, he was distant, cold. Having Ron and Harry helping her wasn't very helpful either. They would get into fights with him, baiting him to get angry and lash out at them verbally. Finally, she'd just thrown them all out, told them she could do it better herself. 

Draco, she'd sent to do the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry and Ron she'd sent to check on the house elves and the menu. It was more just to keep them preoccupied than anything but anything to get them out of her hair was perfectly fine with her. She turned back to the great task of decorating the hall. Motioning with her wand, she sent streamers flying into the air to weave themselves around the rafters. 

"Miss Granger," Headmaster Dumbledor called, coming towards her. "I would like to congratulate you on your hard work here for the Yule Ball. It is going to be magnificent. But where, pray tell, is the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, if I remember correctly? Yes, that's the one." 

She sighed. "I had him doing the entrance to the Great Hall but if he's not there, I don't know where he is. Honestly, I don't think his head is here and now." 

He smiled, patting her comfortingly on the shoulder. "He has already finished the entrance and it looks lovely. And how can any man think when he has to prepare a special night for his lady love?" 

"Pardon me?" she asked, trying to sound convincingly confused. "He's what?" 

His eyes twinkled. "Tonight will be a big night for him, I imagine. A lot to make up for. But that's beside the point. I would like to congratulate you again on your decorating and organizing of this project… thank you." He patted her again then glided off towards another group. 

She stared after him, wondering, not for the first time, how he always seemed to know what was going on everywhere. 

Draco paced back and forth in the Slytherin common room angrily. He had no idea what to do for Hermione for the Yule Ball to show her that he loved her. Nothing. He could come up with nothing to do to show her that he was sorry and that he'd changed and that- 

Crabbe and Goyle started to argue loudly over who got the last cupcake. 

"Shut up!" he bellowed. "Can't you see that I'm trying to concentrate here?" 

They stopped, looking up at him apologetically. 

"Sorry, Draco," they mumbled in unison. 

Crabbe looked at him in confusion. "What's wrong with you anyway?" 

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Why's it any of your business, you nosy fat bastard," he snapped, spinning on his heel to glare into the fire. 

Crabbe looked confused again and Goyle took this opportunity to steal the last cupcake. 

"What do you mean by that?" Crabbe finally asked. 

Draco stared at him. "Forget it. I'm leaving. I need air." He stalked out of the common room and headed for the stairs. His favourite place to think, other than up in the air with a broomstick, was the South Tower. Tonight, he had too much to think about, too much distracting him. He brushed the thoughts aside and took a deep breath of the cold air. That was better. The Slytherin common room was dank and musty, always so dismal and disgusting. Up here, he could think, could send his thoughts out into the air and not have to worry about two blithering idiots like Crabbe and Goyle, who he only kept around because of their muscle. He breathed in, leaning out against the railing and looking down on the grounds. 

Below, he could see the Whomping Willow swaying as if by wind (he knew better though), Hagrid's cottage (small thing that it was, it looked crude), the dark Herbology greenhouses, and the sparkling waters of the lake in the dimming light. 

When he looked up, he could see the horizon stretching out in front of him and if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost picture London, his house, his mother probably sitting by a warm fire – she always seemed to be cold. 

He looked down again. A small figure was walking slowly out, a girl, he surmised. She looked up and he realized it was Hermione. What was she doing outside by herself? As he watched, she went to Hagrid's cottage. A few minutes later, she exited, carrying a bundle of sticks under her arm. She looked so fragile and beautiful, with her hair blowing softly in the evening wind and her cheeks rosy from the cold. He let out his breath slowly. Tonight was going to be perfect, even if he killed himself trying. 

As night became nearer and nearer, Hermione became more and more nervous. What was Draco planning? 

"Here, Hermione! Help me put my hair up!" Lavender called from across the room. 

Hermione looked up. "Why don't you just use magic?" she asked but stood up nevertheless and walked towards the other girl, taking the long blond hair in her hands. 

"Because you do it way better than any magic can!" the girl whined. "I'm so glad you decided to go with Draco. Dean's such a wonderful guy! Thank you!" 

Hermione turned pink. "Don't worry about it." When she decided to go with Draco, she'd used a few well-placed comments to convince Dean to ask Lavender and to convince Lavender that Dean was the greatest guy in the world. It had worked much better than she'd thought. The girl wouldn't shut up about him. It was now turning really annoying. 

"There. Done," she said, giving Lavender's head a final pat. "Now I have to get ready." She went back to her vanity. She was wearing her periwinkle-blue dress robe again – it still fit her, her hair was magically put up in a French twist, and her make-up was perfectly done. She sighed, looking at herself in the mirror. "What am I doing?" 

Her reflection looked blankly back and the mirror replied, 

"Going to the ball, of course… you look lovely, by the way. Have a nice time." 

"Thank you." She got up and went down towards the Gryffindor common room, where she met Harry and Ginny. "Hey you two. All ready?" 

They nodded.   
            "Are you?" Ginny asked, her brow wrinkling. 

She nodded. "Have you seen him yet?" 

"Outside," Harry replied, jerking his head towards the portrait entrance. 

"Thanks." 

"Have fun." 

"Thanks," she said again, making her way to the entrance.

The portrait swung open to show Draco, his back to her, studying a painting, his hands clasped behind his back. 

He turned around and she let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. 

He'd changed so much since first year, they both had. His blond hair, which used to be long and slicked back, was now short and usually spiked, like tonight. His physique had also changed, he used to need Crabbe and Goyle to seem intimdating but after years of exercise and Quidditch, he was over six feet and well muscled. He was now intimidating to all because of his physical appearance and wit. In his dark green robes, and serious look, he seemed much older than his eighteen years. 

"Aren't you going to say something?" 

She came back to reality with a thump, realizing he'd been talking. "What?" 

"I said, 'are you ready to go?'"

She shook her head to clear it of her fanctasies she was having about him. "Yes, of course." 

"You look beautiful, by the way," he added, holding out his arm. 

She took it and they started for the Great Hall. "So do you… handsome, I mean." She blushed, her cheeks growing hot. 

He smiled, flashing her his straight white teeth. "Thank you." 

¤                      ¤                      ¤

Okay, that's it for now… sorry about the delay… I've been really busy, it's the end of school and I ran out of ideas so hope you enjoyed it and please review!!! 


	7. Forgiveness

            She gasped as they got into view of the entrance. Over the top was a large banner, proclaiming, "The Yule Ball" in sparkly writing. On each side was a large mural of Hermione and Draco respectively, smiling and waving to people coming in. "Draco…" The mural was beautiful. "Did you paint them yourself?" 

            He shrugged, nodding. "With the help of magic, of course." 

            "It's beautiful." 

            As they entered, she was happy to see that everything was perfect and running smoothly. She spotted Harry and Ginny, waving from their table. She waved back as Draco propelled her to the head table. 

            "Good evening, Miss Granger… Mr. Malfoy. The decorations look lovely," Dumbledor said as they seated themselves. "You make an excellent team." 

            "Thank you," Hermione replied, blushing, and looked down at her plate. A single red rose lay in the middle, a note wrapped around it. She picked up the note and read it: 

We make ourselves a place apart

Behind light words that tease and flout,

But oh, the agitated heart

Till someone find us really out. 

Some say the world will end in fire, 

Some say in ice. 

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.

So all who hide too well away

Must speak and tell us where they are.

She looked up at Draco, meeting his gaze squarely then looking away under its intensity. "Thank you," she whispered to him, taking it and placing it beside her fork, along with the rose. It was his way of doing things. He couldn't say his emotions so he would have to use written words. Well, that was fine… 

            His reply was stifled by Professor Dumbledor rising to start his speech. 

            "Welcome all students to this year's Yule Ball. This has been a wonderful year so far so let's try to keep it going as well. All decorating and organization of this year's Ball is thanks to our Head Boy and Head Girl: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger." He turned towards them and started an applause that continued throughout the hall until everyone was standing and clapping for them. 

            Draco rose and bowed his head graciously in recognition before motioning to Hermione. 

            She also rose, her face red. 

            "Now, let the feast begin," Professor Dumbledor, said, spreading his hands as food blossomed on the tables. 

After the food was finished, everyone moved away from the tables and with a flick of Dumbledor's wand, the tables floated back against the walls. A band came onto the stage and started to tune their instruments. 

"Would the head boy and girl come out to have the first dance, please?" 

Draco rose and held out his hand to Hermione. "Shall we?" 

She nodded graciously, taking his hand and standing up to follow him. 

They went to the middle of the room and came together. His left hand rested on her lower back, his right taking her left as her right hand settled on his shoulder, lightly as a bird. He breathed in the scent of her perfume and held her close. They danced for a few minutes before he could bring himself to say it. 

"I'm sorry." 

She lifted his head from his shoulder. "Pardon me?" 

"I'm sorry," he repeated gruffly. 

"For what?" 

"For everything and anything I did that hurt you." 

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Say it again," she said wickedly. 

He looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. "You enjoy hearing me apologize." 

She nodded. "Of course." 

He smirked. "Does this mean we're alright then?" His left hand started to move slowly southward. 

She tried to let go of his right hand to grab his left but he gripped it tightly, and pulled her forward until their lower bodies were pressed tightly against each other. 

Her eyes widened and he smirked, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry." 

She gulped. "Well, good. But don't think you're going to get off easily as that-" His teeth latched onto her earlobe. She thanked god that she had chosen to go for dim lighting for the dance floor. "Draco, everyone will see…" 

He glanced around, realizing everyone had joined them on the dance floor. "Meet me in the main hallway, by the statue of Ogarth the Ogre Killer. I'm going to go tell Dumbledor that we're having a meeting." 

She shook her head. "I'll go tell Dumbledor we're having a meeting." She pushed him gently towards the doors. 

He pulled her towards him, kissing her roughly, then turned and strode from the room. 

She walked up to the main table where Dumbledor was asked Professor McGonagall to dance. "Sir, Draco and I are having a meeting about cleaning up after the ball, if it's alright with you?" 

He nodded. "Do you require a quiet place in which to do so?" 

She shook her head. "No, we'll just find an empty classroom. But thanks anyway." 

He bowed his head as he and McGonagall started for the dance floor. 

She couldn't see him as she started off down the hallway towards the statue. "Draco?" she called as she neared. She was almost there when a hand latched onto hers and she was pulled into a classroom. "Dra-"

He covered her mouth with his as he lifted her and deposited her onto a desk. She realized that she wanted this as much as he did. Their mouths were all over each other, covering every piece of bared flesh with kisses. She pulled away and slid his robes off over his shoulders, followed by his shirt, exposing his chest. His stomach was tight and compressed, toned and defined, his pecks hard as rocks. His arms were trim, but well muscled. Hermione pulled him closer to her, opening her legs wider to bring even closer as he flipped her dress robes off. His dress pants were very low, hanging on his hipbones, and she quickly unbuttoned them as he lifted her a bit to pull the rest of her clothing off. And then he was inside of her, slowly at first but gaining speed and strength as she coaxed him, whispering in his ear. The desk moved a few inches loudly, but they were too caught up in the moment to care. She tried to hold her moans back, biting into the flesh of his shoulder to muffle her cries as they finally came together. They clung to each other, breathing heavily. 

"I love you so much," he finally whispered. 

She closed her eyes as tears escaped, sliding down her cheeks. He felt them on his bare shoulder and held her away from him to look into her eyes. 

"Hey, what's wrong now?" he asked softly. 

"You love me." 

He smiled. "Yes, I do." And he kissed her tears away. 

¤                      ¤                      ¤

Okay, let me know if this should be the end or not… I think it is… the poetry comes from the awesome Robert Frost – a combination of two poems: Fire and Ice, and The Hill Wife – Loneliness (her word) Let me know what you think! Ciao! : )


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